Strings
by adele4
Summary: Set during BC: Bakura Ryou finds out that one thing worse than being controlled by one millennium item is to be controlled by a second millennium item. The ring spirit is planning ahead.


Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh

Notes: One-shot; **Manga-based**; set just before the ring spirit cuts himself with a knife; "Bakura" refers to Ryou Bakura; I'm not a native speaker: sorry for mistakes, corrections very much appreciated.

This might or might not be inspired by VSSAKJ's story "Brazen"; I don't remember for sure now, but it _could_ be.

* * *

**Strings **

Chains sprang from the walls, wriggled around his wrists and his ankles, and held him down.

He stared in horror at the object in the Intruder's hand. He struggled uselessly; he choked, felt like he couldn't breathe, inhaled deeply; the air was too thin.

The ring, he couldn't help thinking, had never been like that. The ring's control had been painless, and only confined him into the small space of his soul-room. But this, this was –

A chocked scream was torn from his throat, when suddenly, his soul-room was _changed_.

Not that dangerously subtle and slow change that he knew; not through lies and half-truths, promises and menaces, insidiously encouraged glimpses of madness.

Nothing like that.

The Intruder wielded the object: the walls turned pitch black. The pile of books that stood in a corner bust into flames, and burnt to ashes in a flash. The chains became tighter, forced him to spread out arms and legs, and made his back dig into the hard stone floor, that, instants ago, had been the soft fitted carpet of his first own room. The mirror on the left wall broke into thousand pieces.

"Stop it!" It took him a moment to realise who had spoken; he twisted his neck enough to look up and see the spirit, who was glaring at the Intruder from the door; the millennium ring was glowing faintly in a bluish light. "He's mine."

The Intruder pursed his lips mockingly, but didn't turn away from him.

"You agreed to work for me," he said, underlying the "for" only so slightly. "I get to use your tools."

He was surprised he could even still shiver. He thought of the man they had met in one of the streets of Domino: alive and probably conscious – and completely, utterly motionless. _Like a puppet_, he had thought, and now he knew what the inside of his mind must have looked like.

"Unless," the Intruder added, this time turning towards the spirit with a smirk. "You'd rather have this meeting in _your_ soul-room..."

The ring's aura briefly flared with the spirit's anger, but that was all. No retribution for this open menace. Not even an immediate answer. He hadn't known he still could get any more nervous, either: until now, nearly everybody who had menaced him was weaker than the spirit of the ring, and everybody that wasn't had been Yugi. He'd never had to be afraid. He could even allow himself the luxury of honestly worrying _for_ whoever threatened him.

Now, no matter how strongly part of him still fought this desire, he wanted this person – not dead, but he didn't _care_, as long as he'd be gone, gone from his mind, as long as the revolting, intruding grip on him was _broken_.

When the spirit slowly turned his face towards him, the shadow of a smile playing on his lips, he realised with horror that the parasite must have sensed his thoughts.

"No," he said, very softly, and it wasn't until the Intruder answered – _"thought not,"_ he said smugly – that he realised that he wasn't speaking to him.

"Why did _you_ never do this?" the Intruder asked, a hint of contempt in his voice, as if to imply that the other one wouldn't be capable of it; he didn't think his situation could get much worse (at a gesture from the Intruder, a piece of paper with his name written all over it, Bakura, Bakura, Bakura, in painted Kanji, twice in roman letters as well, faded and vanished), but he did hope the spirit wouldn't feel like he had to prove he was. "You said you'd never had an accomplice..."

"He's _mine_," the spirit repeated, more fiercely than the first time, as if there was a strong and clear meaning in this.

The Intruder actually looked confused for a moment; then he shrugged, and walked toward the back of the room; Bakura let his head fall back down when he passed him, casually stepping over the chains. He tensed when the Intruder stopped in front of a picture of Amane and inspected it thoughtfully: Bakura couldn't see it from where he was, but he knew its exact emplacement, and what she looked like on it: ghost-like pale and smiling.

"It won't kill him," the Intruder said, off-hand. "And you only need the body."

_This is not true._

He tried to keep his breathing steady; it was only when the Intruder reappeared in his field of vision, looking suspicious and put off all the sudden, that he understood: it was his soul-room, so something must have leaked through, but it had been a whispered thought, meant only for him.

He looked up at his parasite fearfully: the spirit had moved as well, silently, and had stopped in front of one of his favourite items of the room; one of the few that had an almost identical replica in the real world, though this one was more crafted, the way the model would have looked like if his skills had been perfect. He tensed again, for different reasons this time, when the spirit poked the protective glass, right above the dice the other Yugi was holding up.

_You know I want you for something else, host..._

He swallowed, laid his head down again, and closed his eyes. He didn't dare speak, even less send a silent answer.

_Do you want me to leave you to him instead...?_

_No!_ his mind immediately supplied, followed by _please, don't leave, please_; he wished he could convince himself that he hadn't wanted the spirit to catch it.

As it was, even the Intruder seemed to have noticed.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, glaring at the spirit.

_See, he's getting impatient. You don't have time to think about it now, host... Do you promise you will do what I want?_

And even as he spoke, Bakura could feel him retreat.

The darkness of the walls extended towards the rest of the room. Purple fog laid itself in front of his eyes, and an uncontrolled swirl of emotions and thoughts swept over him and crushed him down: furious, yet still repressed anger, hate, desire, ambition, urge to kill and destroy the other Yugi...

"Nothing," the spirit answered Malik's question, his words seeming to come from far away.

_"Spirit!"_ He'd never learnt what to call his parasite. _"Stay. Please..."_ Weakly, he added: _"I promise."_

The reaction was stronger and more immediate than anything he had expected: the fog was torn away before his eyes, the chains on his wrists and ankles fell down and vanished. The walls were still black, his destroyed items still gone, but it felt like his room again.

He sat up to curl into a ball, and noticed with surprise that he was sobbing.

"Don't you dare attack me!" the intruder snapped; the rod was glowing in golden light.

"I wasn't," the spirit answered impatiently. "And I told you to stop it."

"You said that he'd introduce me to the pharaoh. I need to control him. Don't think I'll trust _you_ to –"

"Find another way."

There was a dangerous edge to the spirit's voice, but the Intruder just smirked in response.

"I think I might... That is... if you don't mind if your body gets damaged a little...?"

There was a pause, and then suddenly, the spirit started to laugh, that insane laughter that was convincing Bakura that all the careful scheming was barely hiding utter madness.

He was still laughing when they vanished.

Bakura drew his knees closer to his body. The floor felt like his childhood room's floor again, warm and soft, but he could feel the intruder's mind linger, weakly, but noticeable. He glanced up at the model: it hadn't changed at all. Yugi, his other, Honda, Anzu, Jounouchi and the white magician were all still smiling brightly.

It wasn't right. The model should have disappeared when he'd vowed to betrayed them. At least, it shouldn't still look so bright, so unchanged and friendly.

He had not stopped wondering about this when the door to his soul-room was thrown back open, and his spirit stepped inside.

"Stand up," he ordered.

Bakura hesitated briefly, before he obeyed. The spirit grabbed his arms, dragged him to the door, and stopped to eye him critically.

"Go outside," he said, when the inspection was over. "Your body's hurt, but you'll probably pass out anyway."

Bakura barely had time to be surprised he even received a warning, and then he was harshly pushed back into the physical world.

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_Review please? If only to tell me whether it's actually clear what they're talking about?_


End file.
